Under My Skin
by Defiant.Anjeru
Summary: Kaidan is supposed to be her friend and his doubts infuriate Shepard; Lieutenant James Vega knows just what she needs - a dancing partner. But with each dance, the cock sure, flirtatious Vega gets more and more under her skin. Mature for mild sparring violence and sexual situations. Short multi-chapter gift fic. Fem!Shepard/Vega. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **So, this is a gift fic; yay for gift fics! Rebornhoneybee was the 100th reviewer for A Path Rewritten. Her request was for a Mass Effect one-shot for Fem!Shep and James Vega, their sparring sessions turning into something more. This is my first time writing the Vega/Shepard pairing, so if you like it, I'll consider it a job well done. I felt it might get a little lengthy, and didn't want to keep you waiting too long, so I've decided to post it as a short multi-chaptered piece. I hope that's okay! :D

Background: Shepard did not romance anyone in Mass Effect, or Mass Effect 2.

Disclaimer: I make no profit from this, but enjoy it regardless. Bioware can have their toys back in a bit.

* * *

**Under My Skin**

Part One

* * *

After Mars, Kaidan's doubts were beginning to wear on Shepard. They were _supposed _to be friends, and it was because of that she had let his continuous lack of trust slide; but after Mars, even with him in Huerta Memorial, badly injured, she was furious with him. Sure, she _had _been working with Cerberus, an organization that had a hell of a reputation for being terrorists, but they had revived her from well, _death_, and had been the only ones doing anything to stop the Collectors. She had been doing it for the greater good, her reputation be damned. Why Kaidan couldn't see that, why he couldn't trust her, was maddening.

On Mars he'd gone so far as to interrogate her about whether or not she had cut ties with Cerberus, and even hinted that she could have been feeding them information. Her former guard, lieutenant James Vega, had stood up for her against someone who was supposed to be her friend. To say that had stung was a little bit of an understatement.

Vega picked up on it. Quite astutely. After their brief _dance _of fists, he'd offered her a dance whenever she needed one. And right now – she needed one.

How could she not?

Kaidan had held a gun – _on her_. Even _after _she had lowered hers and ordered her own squad – Vega and Garrus – to stand down and do the same. The Major had stood down in the end, and then had the audacity to ask her if he could rejoin her crew aboard the Normandy! In the end, she'd been so livid, so frustrated with him, she had told him to take the position Admiral Hackett had offered him.

_He looked so hurt, _her subconscious chose to remind her, for the tenth time in the hour since she'd boarded the ship.

_Oh like how I must have looked after each time he chose to dismiss me and call me a traitor_, she chose to snap back, though talking to herself couldn't be a good sign.

She needed to vent; pacing her cabin, checking and answering messages, a cold shower – not of it had helped. She left her quarters and took the lift down to the shuttle bay, eyes immediately scanning for the premises for the buff lieutenant. No sign of him, but there was at least there was another option. He had a punching bag tied up in the small alcove he'd made for himself and, if she couldn't vent in a hand to hand fight, at least she could beat the crap out of a bag. She stalked over, not bothering to wrap her hands and, raising her fists, went at it. Pound after pound, for what felt like eternity, her body sweating and chest heaving. She was so lost in the experience that she didn't hear Vega sneak up on her, not until he actually spoke.

"You really should have wrapped your hands, Lola."

With a huff, she stopped and stepped back, swiping the back of her hand across her forehead, the sweat stinging the abused skin of her knuckles. Shepard turned to face him, folding her arms across her chest as her eyes roamed over him; the man was massive, even for a soldier, and tattooed, even had the slightest bit of a mo-hawk in his shaven hair. A _huge _flirt, and cock sure about it; she enjoyed their casual flirting, but it helped that he was so very on the eyes.

"I can take a little pain," she rolled her shoulders in a slight shrug.

He smirked, his warm brown eyes clearly amused. "Kinky."

Shepard couldn't help herself. She laughed, full on belted out a loud laugh. His smirked transformed into a grin and he too laughed. She enjoyed the lighter moment, considering the hell that was outside the hull of the ship; it was hard to forget the Reapers moving through every inch of the galaxy, destroying everything in their path.

"I'm a little on edge," she admitted once she had stopped laughing.

He glanced briefly at the beaten-up punching bag. "My punching bag noticed." He cocked his head and sobered up, just a bit. "The Major get under your skin, Lola?"

She scoffed and frowned. Kaidan _had _gotten under her skin, but in a bad way; Vega, on the other hand...he made it hard for her to play the indomitable Commander Shepard, made it hard for her to forget she was a woman. It was easier forgetting that little tidbit when she was trying to save the galaxy from annihilation. That was a little bit more important than the attraction she was fighting for her lieutenant. A little bit of the problem was that she _didn't _want to fight it.

"I don't like having friends who don't trust in me." She unfolded her arms with a soft sigh. "He'll do more good with Hackett, I think. Now - " she rolled her shoulders and stretched her arms out " - I'd like a dance, if you would be inclined to indulge me."

"I'd _love _to indulge you," he chuckled.

They wandered out the middle of the hangar, the open space having proven many times a reliable sparring ground. He rolled his shoulders and stretched, as she had only moments before, and she found herself watching a little more intently than a commander should. She had to suppress the urge to lick her lips, an action _highly inappropriate, _even with their rather casual friendship mixed with their little bits of flirting. The Alliance had fraternization regulations, after all, and it was for good reasons; relationships tended to mess with the chain of command, especially in life and death situations – situations Shepard found herself in quite often.

"C'mon Vega, waiting on you," she taunted, lowering her shoulders as she brought up her fists.

"Sexist," he teased, doing the same, "leaving it to the man to make the first move."

"Like you have a problem with that," she laughed, swinging a right hook at his face, which he easily blocked with his forearm. She tapped her fist against his arm, teasingly, before then swinging her left fist out in the same way, which he blocked in the same way. He winked at her. She bounced back on her heels, rolling her shoulders again. "Nothing wrong with liking a man who knows what he wants and knows how to get it."

"Oho, is that so, _Lola?_" The way he purred her nickname made her shudder and suddenly all her anger at Kaidan – her supposed friend – just melted away. This wasn't about venting, not anymore. Somehow, within minutes of being in his company, he could 'calm the storm', as it were. It had always been that way, even when he had been guarding her on Earth, when she had been under house arrest. And she hadn't exactly been calm, given her situation and the galaxy's reluctance in her belief – substantiated belief – that the Reaper's were coming, and soon.

She smirked. "I like that kind of man." His eyes widened a fraction and she took advantage of the slight distraction, sweeping her leg out to knock his out from underneath him – not an easy feet for someone of her size to do to someone of his size. Lucky for her she had cybernetic implants, given to her by Cerberus when they rebuilt her from the ground up(or really, brought her back from the dead). But Vega was quick, for his size, and dropped his hands beneath him to catch himself, before flipping over once, then twice, before hopping up onto his feet, just in time to block another of her right hooks.

"Underhanded tactics," he muttered, before thrusting her off of his arms and making her stumble. He came at her with a left hook, one she ducked under, before punching her fist into his side, just near his kidney. He grunted and shook it off, grabbing her arm and flipping her onto her back. She sprang back like a cat, on her feet and circling him as he circled her.

"You do whatever it takes to win," she chastised.

His lips pulled up at the edges in what she could only call a sly smirk. Like he had an idea, one she couldn't foresee and wouldn't be able to guard against. That looks made her wary, but she was never one to back down. The adrenaline pumping through her made her tingle, heart pumping wildly, and her back and forth with Vega certainly wasn't helping that.

He came at her and she swung her fist out, but he ducked beneath it, and charged his shoulder into her abdomen, holding her as tackled her to the floor. She gasped as her back smacked against the floor; well, that was the reason she would say she gasped, because it wasn't from the way Vega towered over her, his face mere inches from her own, his own hot body flush against her. Their eyes locked and she refused to believe she was blushing. Determined, she hooked her legs on his hips – ears picking up on his own gasp – and flipped them over, so that she straddled him.

_Okay – pretend you don't notice that_, she told herself sternly as she felt the bulge against her thigh. He blushed this time, if that was any consolation. And it was. A bit.

"I think that's enough for today," she said, as coolly as she could manage, climbing up off him and extending her hand. He took it and she helped him to his feet; their hands lingered for a moment too long, their eyes locked, and then they _both_ flushed in the cheeks as they took their perspective hands back.

Oh he was getting under her skin. That much she _couldn't _deny.

As she walked into the elevator, and found herself watching him until the doors slid shut, she realized that she didn't _want _to deny it.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **I wasn't expecting such a nice response! Thank you so much for your reviews, alerts, and favorites! I don't always have time to respond individually, but I appreciate your responses immensely! Thank you!

My net has been flaky, which is why the update took a little bit. Updates might end up being weekly if I can't resolve the problem; alas, I start work this Tuesday and will be working, for the foreseeable future, Mondays through Fridays, so if I cannot find time to update during that time, updates will most likely start being posted on the weekends.

Sorry about the massive Author's Note. Important info for the readers. :)

Background: Shepard did not romance anyone in Mass Effect, or Mass Effect 2.

Disclaimer: Owned by Bioware and make no profit from this, but enjoy writing it regardless.

* * *

**Under My Skin**

Part Two

* * *

A week passed since their last sparring session. Shepard didn't think it was such a good idea to go back so soon after what had happened last time; the attraction was there, and after the way she'd felt his response to her close proximity, she was sure the feeling was mutual. Attraction was one thing, but she certainly didn't want to lead him on, or herself either. There were reasons for fraternization regulations, she kept trying to remind herself of that, even if there was a chance for more than a physical relationship; Kaidan had been an example of how she could be hurt, should she let anyone past her barriers. She'd never dated or slept with him, but she had trusted in him, believed in him, in their friendship, only to be let down time and time again.

James had been friendly with her since becoming her personal guard on Earth when she'd been under house arrest and relieved of duty, but she hadn't let him. It was getting harder and harder to keep him out; she didn't want to feel that anger, that betrayal, again.

"Commander?" Garrus' voice brought her out of her thoughts and she turned her cool blue eyes on him. His mandibles spread wide in a grin when he saw the perplexed expression on her features. "You kind of drifted off there."

"Sorry, Garrus," she sighed though a slight wry smile curved her lips. "Got a lot on my mind."

"Understatement." He shook his head, talons clacking against his terminal as he calibrated the Normandy's guns; vaguely it occurred to her that he did that, a lot. Not that she didn't have her own vices, so she couldn't judge. "You're free to unload on me, though I hear that our good old Jimmy Vega has been helping you with that."

Shepard almost had the good grace to flush, but instead managed to scowl in mock annoyance. "What have you heard?"

Garrus chuckled. "Defensive much, Shepard? I was just talking about how often you seem to be in the shuttle bay sparring with him."

He was right. She _had _gotten a touch defensive. "Oh, right."

He turned toward her, leaning against the counsel as he folded his arms over his armored chest. "What did _you _think I meant?"

"Ah – nothing?" She posed the question hopefully, silently praying he wouldn't pry though she knew she wouldn't be that lucky. Garrus, besides Joker, she considered one of her best friends(Kaidan had once fallen into that category, but after their last spectacular clash, he might as well thanked the gods that he was still breathing), so she knew he was unlikely to drop it. Not when she had slipped up so damned perfectly.

"You're not getting off that easy."

_Damn it. _

"Me and my big mouth," she grumbled. With a sigh she rolled her shoulders in a half shrug. "I figured you might have been hinting at a different method of relieving stress. You know – like when you told me about how you and that...recon scout, ah, resolved your tie breaker?"

The ridge over his eye rose as his mandibles fluttered in amusement. Shepard did her damnedest not to let the look get to her, and yet, she could feel her cheeks heating in embarrassment under his scrutinizing gaze. The silence stretched on, leaving her feeling awkward and much like she was a subject being studied in some lab somewhere.

Finally she couldn't take it anymore. "What?" She snapped.

"I didn't say anything," he chuckled.

"You didn't have to." She narrowed her eyes on him, her lips pressed together in a mulish pout. "We've been friends long enough that I can tell how amused you are by this."

He scoffed. "Would I do that – okay maybe I would, but in my defense, this doesn't happen very often."

"What doesn't – you amusement or my predicament, or your amusement at my predicament?"

He chuckled softly. "All of the above?"

"Very funny," she mumbled mockingly. Silence fell over them again for a few moments as she debated whether or not to continue on with this – she could let it drop, but then again, the topic had already been broached, so she _could _ask him for his advise. In the end she went with the latter(what could it hurt?). "So...what do you think?"

He'd turned back to his counsel during her inner turmoil, but he turned his head to peer at her for a moment. "About?"

She scowled. "About me and Vega, what else?"

"Oh right," he chuckled, turning back to his calibrations(could the Normandy's guns really need so many calibrations?). "Hell, we got the Reapers to deal with, and there are going to be losses all around. What could a little happiness hurt? We have a lot riding on this mission. If anybody deserve a bit of happiness in the midst of this war, it's you."

His words weren't what she expected. In reality, they were much better than anything she could have expected. His words touched her and she had to swallow the lump that crept into her throat with the swell of emotion. "Thanks Garrus."

He turned to face her again as he folded his arms, one mandible spreading in that cocky smirk she'd grown to recognize. "I'm not saying Jimmy Vega is the best choice, after all I'm here, but to each their own."

She nearly choked on a laugh. "Careful there Garrus, or else I might start to think you're getting an ego."

"Noted Commander," he chuckled.

* * *

He was doing chin ups when she found him which didn't surprise her. As Cortez had said before, the only tool Vega cared to maintain was himself. Not that she minded. Or rather, not that her eyes minded. Even when she tried to curb herself, they were reluctant to listen and instead liked to roam the length of his muscular frame with interest. A marine was usually so much more disciplined, but around him, she just couldn't seem to help herself.

"Enjoying the show?" He chuckled as he hefted himself up, before easing back down, the muscles bunching in his arms with the strain it took to lift and lower his body.

Shepard leaned back against the crates and folded her arms under her breasts, choosing not to answer him for the moment. It didn't seem to bother him and in the silence, she just watched his work out with appreciation. For the life of her she couldn't see why the other female members of the crew weren't caught eying him; Allers especially. She definitely seemed the type to, ah, get around. Whether that was true or not she didn't know, but that was the impression Shepard got. It could have been because the woman walked the ship with a dress so short that often times Shepard swore she could see her underwear. Mentally she shook herself; it was a waste to think of Allers while she had an eyeful of Vega in front of her.

"You gonna say anything or just stare?" He prompted again, this time dropping onto the ground and rolling his shoulders.

"I thought I'd just stare," she chuckled, "but if you aren't okay with that - "

"Oh I'm okay with it." He turned toward her and crossed his arms. Now it almost felt as if they were staring each down, waiting for the other to slip or make the first move. Her traitorous heart fluttered in her chest and she bit the inside of her cheek, the little bit of pain steadying her nerves.

"Thought so."

"So, Lola, what's brought you down here?" He rubbed a hand along his jaw with a slight smirk. "You come back for a rematch?"

"Rematch?" One of her thin dark brows arched up. "I do believe I won that last round."

He shook his head, his smirk widening. "You called it quits. I won by default."

Shepard wanted to vehemently deny his words, but the marine in her knew them to be true. In all technicality, she'd tapped out, forfeited, and willingly gave him the win in doing so. And Shepard didn't like to lose, but with the turn the match had taken between them the last time, she had thought it better to stop lest things progress in a similar fashion. Damn him, he was hitting her right where it stung. She wanted to take him on right then, consequences be damned. Garrus' words came to mind and she suddenly wondered if the the consequences would really be so bad; if the match took a similar turn as it had last time, would it really be so bad?

She had to wonder. On the Citadel, when he'd gotten his N7 tattoo, she'd asked him if he would ever make good on all their flirting. He'd blushed and floundered over his words, making it clear that he had never intended for it to go beyond that – flirting. Although, the flirting hadn't stopped after that. In fact, it had escalated. Perhaps his intentions had changed.

"Don't let it go to your head," she finally said, in her best commanding tone though it felt weak.

"Too late."

She rolled her eyes. Decision made, she unfolded her arms and pushed up off the crates. She would propose a rematch, but in the hours when the hangar would be empty, hours that screamed personal time; if he took her up on it, given what had occurred between them last time, then she would take that as a sign that he may want more between them as she did.

"Alright, Vega. You'll get your rematch."

He grinned, his amber eyes suddenly excited. "When and where Lola? Or would you rather just go at it now?"

The double meaning of his words didn't go over her head. That traitorous flush threatened to return to her cheeks, but she managed to stomp it down with sheer determination. She wasn't a force to be reckoned with for no reason, after all. Her determination had allowed her to do what the galaxy's inhabitants had considered impossible.

"Tonight. After lights out."

His grin faltered ever so slightly as his eyes roamed over her face, searching for something. Perhaps the true intention of her words. He must have found what he was looking for because he nodded. "After lights out it is then."

She winked and chuckled as she strolled past him. "I'll see you then, Vega. Make sure you're ready for me."

She missed the way he swallowed, missed the way his eyes followed her every movement, and missed the way his fatigues were suddenly too tight; she may have missed all that, but she caught his eye as she moved into the lift and there was no way she could miss or misread the desire burning there.

The doors slid shut and she swallowed; it was a hell of a thing she'd gotten herself into, but that determination of her's was going to make sure she saw it through.


	3. Chapter 3 - Finale

**A/N: **Thank you again, all of you so much, for your reviews, alerts, and favorites! As I said before, I am so happy this is going so well. Now – time for the final part; I hope this has been to your liking, Rebornhoneybee. Since it is _your _gift fic! Also, sorry it took a bit to everyone who's been waiting for the climax – no pun intended – I got distracted reading the Hunger Games trilogy(which I am completely fascinated with now). Can't help but wonder if I'll end up writing fanfiction for that, too.

At the end, I have added any and all translations for the Spanish that Vega speaks in this chapter, just in case some of you don't have a translator handy(like Google chrome, for example). I am not a Spanish speaker, and thus the phrases were taken from a language tutor website, and I apologize if they are not entirely accurate.

Anyway – here we go! :)

Background: Shepard did not romance anyone in Mass Effect, or Mass Effect 2.

Disclaimer: Mass Effect belongs to Bioware.

* * *

**Under My Skin**

Part Three – Finale

* * *

Despite the way she'd so calmly and casually implied their rendezvous for tonight, Shepard found herself growing more anxious, and nervous, as the hours ticked away. She couldn't help but stare at the clock in her cabin, which in turn only made the time crawl by at a snail's pace. She tried to keep herself occupied with the daily reports, sitting on her desk in a pile of data pads, but each time she scrolled through the data, her thoughts meandered away from the data and back to Vega, to what could very well happen between them. Eventually she gave up, pushed the pads aside, and laid her head against her arms, folded now on the top of her desk.

It seemed like her mind wasn't going to let her think of anything else.

Which certainly wasn't helping. Not if the mere twenty minutes that had passed since she'd last glanced at the clock was any indication.

This is how it went though, she supposed. The more you wanted time to pass quickly, the slower it went; if you were busy and didn't care, the day could fly by. Well, she could go down and get a drink, steady her nerves as it were. That sounded like a solid plan as any, for now.

She left her loft and took the lift to deck 3, where she made her way toward the port observation deck that now housed the lounge; it use to serve as Kasumi's quarters back when she had been on her mission, newly revived, to take out the Collectors, but it had been changed with the Alliance's retrofits to instead feature a lounge, complete with a poker table, three leather lounge couches, and yes, a fully stocked bar. Why they had decided on that, she didn't know officially, but she could be glad for it right now. A nice stiff drink should be just what she needs, to both distract her and steady her.

However, much to her dismay, and pleasure(who was she kidding by even trying to deny it), Vega just so happened to be in the lounge, at the bar, chatting with Garrus over drinks. She had never really had the best of luck on her side; she cursed it lividly in her head as she turned to leave the room, hopefully before either of them realized she was there.

Of course she wasn't that lucky.

"Hey Shepard," Garrus' multi-toned timbre made her halt with an inward sigh. "Want to join us for drinks? Vega here needs to learn his place. Thinks he can drink me under the table."

She couldn't help but chuckle at that as she turned to face them. Vega grinned, unabashedly. "You do know he was Arch Angel, right? And that he spent a good amount of time on Omega?"

Vega couldn't help but scoff. "I've been on Omega, too."

"So have I," Shepard chuckles again, "but I doubt you forced to endure the batarian bartender who was using his drinks to murder humans simply because he despised their kind." Vega's brows rose at that one. "Didn't think so."

"You did?"

"Damn right I did. You should have seen the look on his face," she laughs softly now as she approaches where they are seated at the bar, "when I came back to the bar and he realized his drink didn't kill me. Probably due to the Cerberus enhancements." She waves her hand dismissively, that subject not exactly one of her favorites; even now it was still hard to believe she had been dead for two years, and miraculously resurrected by a terrorist organization. "Anyway, Garrus, why don't you tell James what I did?"

The turian smirked in his way as she leaned herself against the bar between the two men. He turned his gaze pointedly onto James, tossing back his drink. "She told him she'd like another."

Vega's eyes widened, much to her amusement. "She didn't!" He exclaimed.

Garrus nodded, "she did, but she didn't drink it."

"What did she do then?"

Shepard couldn't help but chuckle what with how entranced James seemed to be with the whole story. It was like telling a story to a child, that latched on, excited and anxious to know more. She found it an endearing quality; for a man his size, it wasn't something you would expect. "I told him to drink it," she said, almost nonchalantly.

"And he sputtered, knowing he'd been caught. He tried to get out of it," Garrus scoffed, as if the thought were absurd and, at the time, it had been, "but Shepard pulled her gun on him; 'drink it, or I shoot you. If you're innocent of my charges, what's the harm?' she said. Of course, he wasn't. Almost as soon as he downed the drink, he coughed up blood and collapsed, dead."

Vega had the good grace to look skeptical, narrowing his eyes on Shepard who had turned and placed her back against the bar, elbows resting on the ledge. "You, and you alone, survived a poisoned drink with a one hundred percent mortality rate?"

Her lips pulled into an sly smile, her eyes leveling with his as she cocked a brow. "I'm full of surprises," she nearly purred. Garrus choked on his drink causing them both to laugh, the moment passing. "Okay there Vakarian?"

"Fine," he choked out. He glanced between them, only she catching the sharp pierce of his sniper's eye, carefully gauging every facet of the situation. Vega had not been around the turian nearly as long as she, it was unlikely he caught the scrutinizing gaze. She wanted to ask why he reacted the way he had, after they had talked about this, but she could guess the answer. She wasn't known to flirt. She wasn't the flirtatious type. It must have been shocking to him, his reaction at least amusing.

Shepard had not even had a drink and yet, in the ten minutes she'd been in the lounge with them, she found herself relaxed. The anxiety had passed, her nerves suddenly, and inexplicably, steadied. "Well, boys, I got what I came for. I'll see you later," though she addressed them both, she was speaking pointedly to James, and he caught that, his eyes darkening at her suggestive words. She grinned and punched Garrus in the arm in a good nature ribbing, before she took her leave.

* * *

It was amazing that her mood had done such a 180 and how quickly it had done so after stumbling on Garrus and Vega in the lounge. Once she was in a better mindset, the hours flew by with ease. Duties kept her busy until supper and she ate amongst her friends before excusing herself for light's out. Vega's gaze had been on her the entire length of supper and by the end, she decided she needed a cold shower to cool herself before she dared to go to him. Or else she'd jump him the moment she saw him and, while she wanted that with him – and more, she still wasn't entirely sure where he stood on this whole situation, besides his obvious attraction to her.

With the shower returned the anxiety, albeit a completely different kind than what she had dealt with earlier. Earlier she had been anxious for the hours to pass, anxious of what would happen with James, but now it more anxiety that it wouldn't go well, anxiety that she may have pressured him into this when he really didn't want it. Her body was aching, had been since he'd started this little game between them, and she wanted – finally – to get to that point that had been a long time coming now, despite the fact that he hadn't flirted with her until she'd been reinstated.

It made her wonder if he liked flirting with a superior, as opposed to flirting with her. Though she could see how inappropriate it would have been for him to flirt with the prisoner he'd been tasked to guard. Well, more inappropriate than it was now, because, even it was mutual, it was inappropriate for officers to flirt, hence the fraternization regulations.

She dressed in her less formal fatigues and, once the clock hit 11 pm galactic standard time, she took the lift to the hangar where James made him home. As the made the descent, she had to wonder why he had never asked for his own quarters and had instead carved his own little niche into the supply crates. He had enough privacy in his little space, she supposed, since he shared the crew showers with the rest, and the hanger would empty at night when the crew retired, leaving him alone in the vast space.

Her train of thought ceased when the elevator doors _whoosh_ed open, allowing her to step out into the shuttle bay. James was pacing the open space but stopped when he noticed her approaching, turned to face her, and folded his arms across his chest. She couldn't help but admire the curves of his muscles as he did so, the way they moved, almost fluid, beneath his tanned skin.

"Ready for that rematch?" She opened casually, lips pulling up into a wide grin.

"More than ready," he countered, dropping his arms.

Without further invitation, they begin to circle each other carefully. Just easy steps. They had not even fallen into fighting position, instead just eying each other as they moved in unison, around, and around. Finally, she stops and lets a leg slide back as she drops her shoulder, pulling up her fists. He gives her a lopsided grin and then he comes charging, fast and hard. A fist smacks her arm, her shoulder, her arm again as she block a blow to her jaw; on and on it goes, he on the offensive, she on the defensive. After a bit, he hops back and stares her down but she stands fast, refusing to take the bait. Let him tire himself out before she makes her move.

"Come on, Lola," he even taunts her, using two of his fingers to form a come-hither motion.

They circle each other again and she can't help but think that it's both fascinating, and morbidly perverse, to realize it's because of Kaidan that this had sprung up between them. James had extended the invitation to spar whenever she needed and, being around Kaidan and his constant bombardment of doubts and innuendo insults, she had needed it a lot, causing this almost unbearable tension, heat, between James and herself.

He comes at her again, apparently tired of waiting for her to make her move. The fists are blocked by her arms, and she tucks in on herself to protect herself against his knee as it comes at her, missing her hip and hitting soft flesh as opposed to bone. She grunts and flips herself around, her own knee finding home in his gut. He half keels over, before stumbling back and shaking it off. They start to circle again, and this time, she takes the initiative; he comes at her and she ducks to the side, slamming the sharp edge of her elbow into the back of his knee. The blow is unexpected and he falls to the floor, barely catching himself with his palms before his face hits.

Instead of finishing him off, she trails her finger down his spine through the thin, damp, material of his shirt, silently enjoying the shiver that followed. He climbs to his feet and she slowly eases back, pulling herself into stance again. When he turns to face her, she can see the same darkening in his brown eyes that she had seen earlier. She is certain that same look was in her own eyes, if his slight smirk was any indication.

"Do whatever it takes to win, huh?" He asks the question aloud though she knows it's rhetorical. A repeat of her own words during their last sparring session.

"You're a quick learner," she chuckles.

"I'm full of surprises," he says this time, another repeat of words she'd spoken to him previously. He even in laid the same note of suggestion into them, making her shiver. His slight chuckle lets her know he caught it.

He hops from foot to foot, no doubt testing his knee. The blow had been sharp enough to the exposed area that it had to be sore, even if she had held back a considerable amount of her strength in fear of hurting him(another drawback of Cerberus' enhancements). And then he is coming at her again. They exchange blows, fists to fists, fists to arms, arms to arms; she loses track of how long they do this, but they finally break apart, both panting as they return to circling each other. This was supposed to be a rematch, a chance for her to redeem her surrender, but she can't seem to focus on that. Instead she finds herself watching the way his sweat makes his shirt cling to his muscular shoulders and torso; the way his skin glistens beneath the light; the way his muscles bunch and flex each time he moves. She was completely fascinated and it was a great distraction, it being one reason she remained, mostly, on the defensive. She couldn't take the offensive when she was distracted. Too easy to slip up and leave herself open to his attacks.

Said distraction leads her to be tackled back on the ground, eyes wide as she peers into his face. Before she can gain her bearings and throw him off, his lips slant across her own and effectively cease her struggles. The feel of his lips are hot and she moans, unable to help herself, hands clutching in the fabric of his shirt as his tongue slides past her open lips to stroke and coax her own.

His body falls, dips to be cradled by her legs, his very obvious erection pressing against her core through their fatigues. Almost as soon as she feels him, the fight is forgotten and she allows herself to be thrown into the fires of their passion. They kiss, on and on, before breaking apart, breathless. He pries her hands from his shirt and uses his own to peel it over his head. Hers' in next, followed quickly by her plain, standard N7 issue, bra. She takes in the sight of his magnificent chest, bare to her gaze, before his hands find her breasts to caress and she lets her head fall back with a small moan.

His fingers are masterful, as are his lips. His lips scorch a path across her jaw, down to her neck, where his teeth and tongue score her flesh hotly, even as his fingers mold and caress her breasts, thumbs brushing over her the now hardened peaks. He seems pleased by her moans and gasps, pressing his hips into the cradle of her own, rubbing against her in a way that was almost maddening.

"James," she moans his name and claws at his back, desperate for more and he groans.

"I love that," he mumbles against the flesh of her breast, his tongue sliding across the skin before flicking the peak.

"Love what?"

"That sound. The way you moan my name, _amante_."

He brings his lips back to hers and they kiss again, hot and heavy, tongues and lips meshing until she can't think coherently. As if she could before. The very thought made her scoff mentally. She hadn't been able to think of anything but this since she had suggested their 'rematch'.

"_Dejame eastar contigo._" He whispers the words against her lips and, even though she did not know the meaning, she shuddered with awareness. She may not know the words, but the meaning was very clear – he wanted her. "_Te quiero en mi cama." _

She nods her assent and he grins, climbing off her to kneel at her side. His arms slide beneath her and then she is up, in his arms, cradled against his chest. Even as he carries her back to his small alcove, he kisses her over and over, making it hard to focus on anything other than that. Well, besides the feeling of his bare skin on her own. That she found hard not to focus on. And then he is lying her on his cot, strong fingers plucking open the button to her fatigues. Soon they are being pulled down her lean and long legs, leaving her in nothing but her bikini cut black underwear – again, standard issue N7 like her bra, what with the small red and white N7 emblem stitched onto it.

He licks his lips and she nibbles her own, suddenly self conscious under his scrutinizing, yet heated, gaze. They are both soldiers and for once, she does not have the urge to hide her scars(although they are all new, since Cerberus had apparently given her all new skin – another somewhat unpleasant thought).

"Just gonna stare?" She asks after a long moment, finding herself nearly grinning.

"_Bella, eres muy linda, _Shepard," he finally says and, despite not knowing the meaning of his words, she blushes, knowing he is complimenting her. And it's unbearably sexy and endearing, to hear it in this way. Something about the way he speaks the Spanish makes it sexy in his deep voice.

"So long as you're not calling me strange, we're good," she teases.

He grins and strokes his fingers over her cheek. "It means you're pretty, _bonita_, very pretty."

She blushes more. "And that? What's bonita mean?"

He leans to kiss her, albeit softly this time, a mere brush of his lips across her own as he whispers, "beautiful."

"You don't need to flatter me," she gasps into his mouth, "it's pretty clear where this is going."

"I hope you don't think I'd flatter you just to get you into my bed," he chuckles as he lifts his head. "Though it's not flattery. You are sexy as hell, _amante_. I can barely concentrate when you are around."

"I'll take your word for it."

"You had better." He kisses her again, this time deeply and she melts into it, her arms sliding around his neck to pull him flush against her, again cradled in between her legs, in her hips. His chest presses against her own and she can't help but moan at the feeling of her nipples brushing against his flesh.

It gets hot and heavy again in moments, and before she realizes it, they're both naked and his erection presses against her already hot and damp core. He brushes his fingers over her bundle of nerves and she gasps, arching up into his body and then he is sliding home, filling her impossibly, stretching her and making her body hum with pleasure. They both cry out, bodies shuddering against each other at the feeling of being joined. And then he is moving, pulling nearly free from her only to slam back inside; hands stroke over flesh; lips and tongues meld together; moans and groans fill the air around them. She's nearly delirious with pleasure, body arching and pressing against his own, nails clawing at his back as she writhes against him in turn.

It goes on and on, until she's dizzy, sweaty, every nerve ending tingling with awareness, ready to zap her into oblivion, throw her over the edge into the abyss. He shouts, loud, her name, and then she's gone, the coil snapping free so that she reaches her peak with her own shout. They shudder as one, finishing as one, and then falling together as one in a mess of limbs onto the cot.

They don't speak and soon she's dozing, pressed flush against his warm body, his arms around her.

"_Estoy desesperadamente enamorado de ti, _Shepard," he whispers the words against her hair as she begins falls asleep and she knows that they mean something important.

She can feel it. Perhaps because of how much he'd truly gotten under her skin.

It wasn't until London that she found out exactly what they meant, and it was those words that empowered her to come back to him alive despite the odds stacked against her; words that empowered her to do the impossible.

* * *

_amante – _lover.

_dejame eastar contigo – _I want to be with you

_te quiero en mi cama – _I want you in my bed

_bella – _pretty

_eres muy linda – _You're very pretty

_bonita –_ beautiful(female)

_estoy desesperadamente enamorado de ti – _I'm hopelessly in love with you


End file.
